)
(Continued from last week).
SYNOPSIS
CHAPTER L—Winton Garrett, twen-
ty-five and just out of college, calls by
pointment on Archie Garrett, his New
ork cousin and executor, to receive
8 inheritance of $100,000. Archie,
nest, an easy mark and a fool for
uck, assures Winton that he is prac-
tically a millionaire, as he has invested
ju but $10,000 in a rubber plantation
n either the East or West Indies and
in a controlling interest in the Big
Malopo diamond mine, somewhere or
other in South Africa, sold him as a
special favor by a Dutch promoter
mamed De Witt.
CHAPTER IIL.—Winton, en route to
fis mine, finds the town of Taungs
wildly excited over a big strike at
Malopo, including the 95-carat “De Witt
diamond.” Two coach passengers are
8 disreputable old prospector, Daddy
Beaton, and his daughter Sheila. On
the journey a passenger, who turns out
to be De Witt himself, insults Sheila.
Winton fights De Witt and knocks him
eut. Sheila tells him to turn back. She
Says that her father is a broken Eng-
fish army officer, who has killed a man
nd is therefore in De Witt's power,
nat De Witt is all-powerful, being
cked by Judge Davis, president of
the diamond syndicate and also the
gesident magistrate and judge of the
mative protectorate.
CHAPTER III.—Winton finds Malopo
fn a turmoil, both over the strike and
the theft of the De Witt diamond. Win-
ton foolishly discloses his identity to
Sam Simpson, a Jamaican negro, sub-
editor of the local newspaper. He more
wisely confides in Ned Burns, watch-
man at the Big Malopo, who tells him
that the syndicate has planned to take
eontrol of the mine the next morning.
CHAPTER IV.—Winton finds that
Pheila is cashier at the restaurant. He
Qifery his friendship. She rebuffs him.
an Vorst, a notorious diamond thief,
one of De Witt’s men, slips the stolen
De Witt diamond into Winton’s pocket
and two policemen club Winton and
arrest him. He escapes them and
when at his last gasp Sheila takes him
fnto her house, bathes his wounds and
saves him from his pursuers.
CHAPTER V.—The next morning
Sheila offers Winton help in escaping
from Malopo. He convinces her with
difficulty that he did not steal the De
Witt diamond and that he is president
of the Big Malopo company. Bruised
and blood-stained he runs across town,
breaks by force into the company meet-
ing, and aided by a popular demonstra-
tion proves his identity, blocks the re-
srganization and takes control. He
asks Sheila to marry him. She laughs
hysterically and refuses him.
CHAPTER VI.—Winton hires Seaton
as compound manager and develops Big
Malopo. Judge Davis, a philosophical
old hypocrite of unknown past, offers
him the syndicate’s co-operation. “Oth-
erwise, he says, “we’ll smash you, you
é—d young fool.”
CHAPTER VIIL—Winton, infuriated
by a scurrilous newspaper article about
Bheila and himself, knocks Sam down
and publicly threatens Judge Davis. He
finds Sheila about to elope with De Witt,
to save her father. He horsewhips De
Witt. Sheila again refuses to marry
him and says she is going away, never
to see him or her father again.
CHAPTER VIII.—Winton hires Sam
as night watchman. Van Vorst's gang
steal the De Witt diamond. Winton
Jiirsnes Van Vorst, who escapes with
e big stone.
CHAPTER IX.—Winton is rescued by
Sheila, on her way to a native village.
There she kisses an old woman, only
partly white, and says, “This is my
mother.” He again asks her to marry
him. She refuses him, because of the
race bar. Heartsick, he sets out for
Malopo with a native guide.
CHAPTER X.—Winton succumbs. His
guide robs and deserts him. Sam res-
cues him. Burns's brain is affected; he
cannot tell what happened. The work-
ers in the mine return no stones. Win-
ton is forced to borrow money from the
syndicate, agreeing to pay in a month
or lose the mine.
He opened a drawer of Lis desk and
pulled out a faded photograph of a
comely young woman. He flung it
down before Winton. :
“A young man married and a young
man marred,” he said with a concen-
trated bitterness that astonished Win-
ton again, and touched his heart as
well.
The judge's chest heaved, and he
pushed his throat convulsively out of
his high collar. As he did so Winton
saw a round scar, like a bullet wound,
in the side of his neck, of a flaming
red.
“She left me for another man,” sald
the judge. “If I had found him 1
should have killed him.”
He took up the photograph and re-
placed it in the drawer. Winton had
not spoken,
“I don't know why I told you this,
young man,” he said.
because I find you interesting. You
have so little common sense, and yet
you are not a fool. The money will be
repaid one month from today, or the
shares pass to the syndicate. I can-
not, unfortunately, charge you broker-
age, because I have not a broker's
license,”
He wrote out the check, and handed
it to Winton, who pocketed it and held
out his hand. “Good day, judge,” he
said.
“Good day, my dear young friend,”
said the judge, resuming his quaver.
“Wait a minute! I can’t charge you
brokerage, but there's a sixpenny
stamp on the transfer. I'll sell yov
one, Thank you!”
CHAPTER XI
Sam’s Dance.
The month passed, and the find of
stones was negligible. This did not
necessarily augur ill for the future of
the claim. Only the surface of the
blue ground had been investigated, and
it required an exposure of the blue
“Perhaps it is.
joc
:
=
»
ROUSSEAWL
®
VICTOR.
COPYRIGHT 4¥ W.G.CHAPMAN
rock to sun and air for weeks in order
to permit of proper disintegration.
The crushing of the excavated material
had been a makeshift, inspired by
urgency. But stones should have been
found, and only a few small pebbles
had come to light.
Three days before the month ex-
pired Winton received a letter from
Judge Davis, in his capacity as a
shareholder, requesting him to call a
meeting in order to discuss certain
subjects of importance. Winton ad-
vertised the meeting in the Chronicle,
set his teeth, and prepared for the in-
evitable.
The day arrived. He found himself
at the table with Davis, De Witt, Han-
son, and the four small shareholders.
The transfer had been made irrevo-
cable. He held forty-seven shares, and :
the syndicate with Hanson, the same
number. The local men, with their six
shares, thus controlled the situation, |
and their decision was not in doubt.
Winton went to the meeting in the
full expectation of being ousted and -
of seeing De Witt reinstalled as purser.
He had steeled himself to bear the
humiliation, but the severance of his
relations with the claim, the end of the
enterprise so far as he was concerned,
was difficult to face, And there would
be Ned out of employment—Ned, still
in the hospital, though physically well,
in the hope that something could be
done for him; Ned, greeting Winton
with his mysterious nods and smiles
and Bible passages, and believing that
his references. were understood.
The hostile atmosphere of the meet-
ing, De Witt’s expression of triumph,
and Hanson's vindictive glances con-
vinced Winton that this move was
about to be made. But Davis never
did the obvious thing, and he had other
ends in view.
“Mr. Purser,” he said, “the proposi-
tion to be placed before. this meeting
is as follows: that we go into volun-
tary liquidation for the purpose of an
immediate reorganization, in order to
raise fresh capital to'develop our water
supply.
“You have made frequent complaints
that the flow of the company’s water is
not adequate to the working of the
claim. I can bear you out in this, for
I have investigated the matter, and,
heing interested both in the claim and
in the water company, I have naturally
done all that was possible to increase
the flow.
“The Big Malopo promises to be-
come the most profitable claim upon
the fields. The prosperity of all Ma-
lopo is closely bound up with the water
supply. By improving our water re-
sources we shall not only promote fra-
ternity and concord’—here the judge's
voice assumed its quavering intona-
tion, which in turn gave ay to the
sharp business tone—“but shall enter
into a very profitable business enter-
prise.
«Our water supply is at present |
wholly dependent upon the under-
ground storage accumulated during the
preceding rainy season. A succession
of two dry years would mean the total |
cessation of all labor for months. Ob- |!
viously we cannot remain at the mercy
of the elements when”—he looked |
about him for the anticipated approba-
tion—*it is possible to tap the Groot- |
spruit river and secure an unfailing
supply throughout the year.” |
A storm of applause greeted him as
he sat down. Winton sprang to his
feet. i
“The Grootspruit is fifty miles
away!” he cried. “What is your esti-
mate of the cost of installing a plant
and laying pipes across the desert?”
“I have submitted the question to
two competent engineers, Mr. Garrett,”
answered the judge. “Their estimates
are practically the same. They place
the cost at, roughly, ninety thousand
pounds. This will provide a sufficient
flow for the entire mining field.”
Winton sat down, stunned more at
what lay behind the proposition than
at the suggestion itself. If the syndi-
cate was willing to invest as heavily
as that, it meant that they were aware,
in ways unknown to himself, that the
Big Malopo was not merely a promis-
ing claim, but one of the biggest out-
side the famous Kimberley fields.
For it was hardly likely that the syn-
dicate was planning to cut the throat
of its own water company, which could
supply it with an ample quantity, in
order to bring water for fifty miles
across the desert. And the scheme
meant, of course, that Winton would
be frozen out completely, together with
the little men, who had doubtless been
let into the secret and had agreed to
gell. He would own only an insignifi-
cant number of shares in the reorgan-
ized concern.
Even if the proposal failed, the syn-
dicate could install a new purser and
instruct him to call for an unlimited
expenditure which Winton would be
unable to meet, They had him both
ways. Yet he put up a fight, urging .
the small ‘shareholders to stand up
against the syndicate, instead of let-
. . “ «8 He
! ting their interests pe swamped.
. attacked Davis without scruple.
' unmollified,
one vote only.
“Mr. Purser, will you put the mo- | awful din of musical instruments was
! tion?” inquired Judge Davis when he ! making itself audible. The two men
had ended.
And the waverer cast in his lot with
the syndicate after all, The motion
passed by fifty-three to forty-seven.
It was not until he found himself | ing a bright light into the farthest cor-
1. boys ate and gathered after their work
His | was over, and a second, divided into
{ words were bitter. One of the smaller | partitioned sections, in which the na-
men was wavering, but he controlled | tives were housed according to their
i
upon the street again that Winton |
realized he was still purser. He rea-
soned that the syndicate did not need
to dispossess him until the reorganiza-
tion had been effected in a few days’
time. Then, of course, De Witt would
step into his shoes.
|
i
When he got back to the claim every- |
thing looked different to him.
work, which had been in the nature of
The
a duty, suddenly seemed an integral
part of his life. It occurred to him for
the first time that, without it, he would
have no longer any reason for remain- :
ing in Malopo. And the thought was
a staggering one.
' triangle.
Without home ties, he had uncon-
sciously begun to assimilate to him-
self the atmosphere of the little desert
town. A thousand daily scenes, in-
sensibly built into his being, now
seemed a part of him and claimed him.
He did not know what he was going
to do.
However, an unexpected program
had been arranged for him. Sam, who,
though degraded from his cherished
and short-lived job, had never ceased
to take an interest in the compound
natives, was loitering near the door
of the cottage, evidently with the de-
sign of intercepting him.
“Want me, Sam?’ asked Winton.
«I was hoping, sir, that you might
be willing to be a guest at our musicale
tonight,” answered Sam, grinning a
little sheepishly.
“Explain,” said Winton.
“well, Mr. Garrett, you will recall
that I have occasionally expressed the
view that the Bantu does not differ
in a psychological sense from the Cau-
casian. My theory, to which you have
offered a tacit opposition, is that it
is their environment alone which has
kept these natives down. I have been
endeavoring to disseminate certain
social ideas among them.”
“So that explains the ungodly noise
I’ve heard lately, Sam?”
For several weeks past the natives
of the Big Malopo compound appeared
to have been practicing on a variety of
musical instruments ranging from the
humble concertina up to the clarinet.
The discords had been maddening, but
Winton had hoped the craze would
pass. :
“I think, sir, that our ear has be-
come attuned,” said Sam with dignity.
“All right,” said Winton. “When
does the show begin?”
“At seven o'clock, sir,”
Sam,
“I'll be there,” said Winton,
He was cooking supper in his room
when Josephs tapped at the door. The
little man wore an expression of con-
siderable anxiety, mingled with dis-
gust.
“Mr. Garrett,” he began, “hzre’s
where I get out. . You'd better look for
another compound manager quick.”
“What's the trouble?’ Winton in-
quired.
“It’s that nigger Sam, Mr. Garrett.
He told me you'd given him leave to
experiment with the boys in the in-
terest of science, or something, and
I've stood by and seen as good a lot of
boys turning into shiftless loafers as
I've ever seen. But I've reached my
limit with musical evenings.”
“Josephs, I kicked Sam out of the
job because he was making himself a
nuisance. I left the management of
the compound exclusively to you.”
“Well, I'm out,” answered Josephs,
“unless this sanitary
science business comes to an end right
now. Do you know that we're the
laughing stock of the fields, Mr. Gar-
rett? I ain't a difficult man to get
along with, but I draw the line at
musical swarries for wild niggers that
was throwing spears at each other
answered
three months ago and stalking bush-
buck on their bellies.”
“You're right, Josephs. I gave Sam
no permission to interfere with the
boys in any way, and I'm satisfied to
leave you in full charge.”
“That's all right,” grumbled Jo-
sephs, “but this is Saturday night, and
they ain't been searched. For all we
know, every one of them d—n niggers
may have a pint of stones about him.
Sam told me you hadn't begun search-
ing them yet, and you was trying to
put them on their honor, or some such
* be a massacre unless they're got under
Sunday school story, and I've been try-
ing to ask you about it for days, and
been put off.”
“I've been pretty busy, Josephs. Of
course the boys will have to be
searched. But we haven't begun wash-
ing yet, to any extent.”
“Mr. Garrett, there's been more dig-
ging and washing than you know, And |
I don’t like the look of them tunnels
Now, sir, it
on the syndicate claim.
comes to this: either I run the com-
pound as it ought to be run, and Sam
Simpson keeps outside, or you get an-
other manager.”
“I accept your terms,” said Winton.
“Do whatever you consider right.
However, tonight Sam's got to have
| tribal dances were being enacted. Men
i
|
|
i
|
full swing, because I gave him my
promise. And don’t worry, Josephs,
because you may have another purser
more to your liking in a little while.”
“1 hope not, , Garrett,” answered
the manager. “There ain't a man I'd
rather work for than you. But you're
too easy.”
After a little more talk Winton suc-
ceeded In pacifying Josephs, and he
persuaded him to come to the com-
pound with him and see what Sam had
been doing.
They went there at the appointed | - “Do you see what you've done, you
hour. The compound buildings con-
sisted of a large structure in which the phone the police from my office.
|
several tribes. From the former an
entered, and stopped on the threshold
as if petrified.
The walls were decked with flags.
A large lamp hung from the roof, throw-
ners. Thirty or forty savages were
formed in a double line along the floor.
Each one war attired in a full-dress
suit, with starched bosom, white collar
and tie. Each man wore a pair of
patent-leather shoes and white socks.
Half a dozen native women were pres-
ent, one or two with graceful colored
handkerchiefs over their frizzly locks,
but the rest wearing discerded hats of
various shapes. Their apparel was of
rainbow hues. At the end of the hall
was an orchestra, consisting of two
fiddles, a cello, two clarinets, two
flutes, a drum, three trombones, and a
At Winton’s appearance the band
struck up “God Bless the Prince of
Wales,” and, to cap the climax, every
man produced a pair of bones and |
tapped out the tune.
Sam came up to Winton, his black
face beaming over his expansive shirt-
front, He wore the aspect of a magi-'
cian who, having successfully produced
a white rat, a pair of rabbits, and a
plum pudding out of an opera hat, con- |
fronts his audience, for its verdict. |
But Winton could find no words, and
it was Josephs who spluttered: |
“What the—what—what the—"
“My sentiments,” said Winton. |
“You will see, Mr. Garrett, that my ,
theory was correct,” said Sam. “The |
Bantu and the Caucasian, though
ethnologically distinct sub-species of
the genus homo, are, psychologically,
brothers.”
“D—n your brothers!” shrieked the |
compound manager. “The boys are
here to dig diamonds. Did you ever;
stop to think of that, you black fool?” |
He swung on his heel and stalked fu- |
riously out of the compound. Then |
Winton found his tongue.
“What are these women doing here, |
Sam?’ he demanded sharply.
Sam rubbed his hands together. |
“The softening and refining nL
|
ence of the feminine sex is not con-
fined to the Caucasian,” he answered.
Winton swore. The crowd had be-
gun to dance. Sam had taught them
the waltz, and the quick minds of the
savages had grasped his instructions
perfectly. But what interpretation did |
these blacks place upon it? Dancing |
and worship are synonymous among
the lower races. Kor them it might
mean some mystic ritual to tribal gods.
He watched tlie savages revolving on
the mud floor of the hall, which was
quickly dissolving into a fine yellow
dust that began to choke Winton's
throat and veil the outlines of the mov-
ing figures. Men were dancing with
men, and women with women, and al- |
ready they were beginning to grow ex-
cited. Arms went up with the as-
segai-flinging gesture. The shirtfronts,
drenched with perspiration, had been
wrenched open, showing the black’
bodies beneath. One or two cries were
raised, and answered. !
Winton hurried away. The permis-
sion, given, could hardly be withdrawn.
But he had never dreamed that such |
a scene was being rehearsed. Josephs,
following the rule of not interfering |
with the natives after hours, had been |
bluffed by the egregious Sam into sup-
posing that he was acting with Win-
ton’s authority, Winton could never
live down the story of the dance. it!
would be associated as long as he was |
in Malopo with his ignominious diss |
missal from the purser’s post and loss
of control.
He went into his cottage and’sat!
down. From there he could hear the |
sounds as plainly as ever. They were |
growing louder. The music had re-
solved itself into a medley of notes
that resembled nothing ever written.
Each player was proceeding inde
pendently, and the yells were deafen-
ing.
Half an hour passed. Josephs came
in in intense excitement, carrying a
whip. .
“I'm going to stop that, Mr. Gar-
rett,” he said furiously. “Do you know
what it means? They'll break out of
the compound in a few minutes and
start plundering the stores. There'll.
control.”
“I'll go with you,” said Winton.
As they approached the compound
building the din was at its height. One
look inside disclosed the fact that
civilization was at an end. A dozen
were dancing and swaying before the
group of women, whooping and scream-
ing as they went through their own
immemorial ritual. The man with the
drum had lost all self-control and was
hammering it with all his might, send-
ing out a deafening roll. The cellist
had smashed his instrument on the
head of one of the flutists, who was of
a different tribe, and the man lay
stunned, his skull half through the
instrument, and the strings tangled
about his neck. The trombones were
blowing with all the power of their
lungs, one Of the fiddlers had seized
the other fiddler's instrument and was
clashing them together, and the man
with the triangle was striking it softly
in a corner by himself and humming a
negro love song,
The place was a bedlam of trib
factions suddenly come to life. Clothes !
littered the ground; natives were dis--
garding the second-hand .dress-suits,
bought from some old-clothes store,
and gyrating in their loin cloths.
Winton saw Sam near the door,
watching the scene in dumb terror.
cursed fool?” he cried. “Run and tele:
The
whole of the fields will be in a riot in
five minutes’ time.”
Even Josephs hesitated to attack
that yelling mob, in which a dozen
fights had already started. But at that
*Do you see what
you've donex you
cursed fool,"
he cried.
moment salvation came. - It came In
the shape-of an elderly man, with a
- white beard and a shock of white hair,
who came running across the com-
pound, carrying a whip and a shotgun;
and Winton had never been so glad to
see Ned Burns before.
With him were two or three Hotten-
tots, also carrying whips, men who, de-
spising the native tribes, had stayed
sulkily away from Sam's entertain-
ment.
Ned, who had been let out of the
hospital that afternoon, had made his
way toward the shack, his only home.
He had heard the uproar, and, not
knowing the cause of it, had acted
automatically, as he had been trained
to do by years of experience with the
natives.
Emitting a yell that pierced the din
like a fog-horn, he discharged the shot-
gun into the legs immediately in front
i of him, followed with the other barrel,
and then, accompanied by Josephs and
the Hottentots, waded into the throng.
In half a minute the tribal passions,
cooled under the stinging blows, gave
place to order. The shrieking mob,
penned up at one end of the room,
howled for mercy, while Ned's whip
rose and fell relentlessly, curling about
the half-naked bodies and searching
out each man with impartial dexterity.
When at last he ceased the cower-
ing natives had been reduced to abso-
lute submission.
He uttered a few crisp orders to his
Hottentots, who began to herd the men
into the compound, shouting at them
in their various dialects. The fright-
ened women had already fled through
the gate.
Winton, feeling decidedly subordi-
nate, suffered Ned to give his direc-
tions to his boys. Within a few
minutes the natives, lined up in groups,
were submitting to the most rigorous
inspection devised. Mouths were pried
open and tongues pulled up, clothing
ripped open, heels broken off patent-
leather dancing shoes. It was a weird
| scene in the light of the full African
moon, and one that impressed itself
on Winton’s mind indelibly.
He began to understand Van Beer's
viewpoint better, and he realized as
never before the volcano of savagery
that slumbered beneath the veneer of
civilization in Africa.
When the search was at an end, and
the natives had been driven into their
sleeping quarters, Josephs and Ned
came up to Winton, each holding out
two handfuls of pebbles. Winton
looked at them for some seconds be-
fore he realized that they were large
diamonds.
He stared at them, and then at Ned;
and suddenly he shook the old man by
the shoulders.
“Ned, you've got your speech back!”
he shouted. “Do you know that?
Speak, man!”
Ned opened his mouth, and from his
throat issued a succession of guttural
clicks. It was Hottentot—Winton
knew that, but no more,
“Speak English, man!” he shouted.
But Ned only looked at Winton
mournfully. The blow upon the skull
had shattered all but that corner of
Broca’s convolution in which the Hot-
tentot speech-center had been created.
Hottentot Ned could speak; but that
would be his sole tongue for the re-
mainder of his years.
He began talking rapidly to Jos
sephs, who listened and translated.
“He says, Mr. Garrett,” announced
the compound manager, ‘that he
warned you at the hospital, and
thought you understood. He says that
he had suspected Seaton of buying
stones from the boys and selling them
to De Witt through Van Vorst. He
taxed him with it, and Seaton broke
down and confessed. That was on the
night of the robbery. Mr. Burns meant
to tell you at once, but you had gone
to bed early. Seaton must have got
word to Van Vorst to finish the job
OE ——————
ton the claim might still be his. But
how could he support a charge of
fraud on the single evidence of Ned
Burns, given in Hottentot?
Suddenly Winton started back, star-
ing through the shadows as if he had
seen a ghost.
An old man was coming unsteadily
through the gateway. It was Seaton
himself. He groped his way across the
compound, bleary of eye, unsteady of
gait, went up to Winton, and laid a
trembling hand upon his arm.
“I've come back,” he mumbled
drunkenly. “My gal's gone, and I've
done with this life of a dog. TIl be
De Witt’s tool no longer. I've come
back to take my medicine.”
CHAPTER XII
The Trial.
It was the general opinion of the
group upon the stoep of the Continen-
tal that Judge Davis was going to get
what had been coming to him for a
long time. Bets to that effect were
' freely offered, and there were very
that night, and next day it was too
late.”
Too late! The words echoed through :
Winton’s brain. It had been too late
from the beginning; for if he could
have understood what Ned had tril
to convey to him in the hospital he
could have kept control of the Big
Malopo.
The double handful of stones would
have brought him more than Davis had
paid him; enough to have made the
loan unnecessary. Now he was in the
grasp of the syndicate, purser only |
through Davis's tolerance;
and that
was doubtless extended for the present
with some ul.erior object in view.
Winton stared at the dull baubles. If
only he could lay his hands upon Sea-
few takers, even at long odds.
The forthcoming trial was the sole
topic of conversation in Malopo.
Everything had combined to favor
Winton against the syndicate.
On the very day following Seaton’s
return a long-expected proclamation
had been made by the high commis-
sioner, placing Malopo under the col-
ony's jurisdiction, and delegating
Judge Crawford, who was then hold-
ing sessions at Vryburg, to proceed
thither for the purpose of organizing
a civil government and hearing all
criminal and civil cases.
The independent regime had come
to an end, to the relief of the settle-
ment, and Judge Davis was relegated
to his position as magistrate, thereby
being eliminated from the pending pro-
ceedings.
Public opinion in Malopo, linking up
Seaton’s return and arrest with the
theft of the big stone, was decidedly
hostile to the syndicate. There was
no fear of a packed jury. The syndi-
cate’s influence seemed to have shrunk
to nothing. :
Winton’s lawyer was a young
Scotchman named Brown, who had re-
cently arrived on the diamond-fields;
he threw himself into the case with
ardor, knowing that success would be
his making. Winton and he held con-
stant conferences,
winton had wished to use Seaton’s
evidence to prosecute De Witt, but
Seaton’s anxiety to have everything
thrashed out was so great, and he
cared so little what happened to him-
self, that it was decided to arrest the
oid man instead. This would enable
him to tell his whole story, much of
which might otherwise have been
ruled out. It wus the general opinion
that, when he had tinished, the syndi-
cate would be in a bad way.
Seaton had wandered iunio the des-
ert and attempted to tind a domicile
with one of tue tribes. But he had
been set upon and badly Leacen,
This treatment seemed to have
aroused his long-dormant manhood. as
a culmination to the suffering that he
had endured in the past at De Witt's
hands it seemed to have effected u
change in the old man's i..urc. A
sort of moral strengthening had come
over Seaton in jaii. He had refused
the prison doctor's prescription of
liquor, and announced his intention of
fighting De Witt to the bitter end.
As the days went by the rumor be-
gan to spread that Davis had quu.-
reled with De Witt and refused to
stand by him. Brown was of that
opinion,
“De Witt has known all the syndi-
cate’s secrets for years, and done all
its dirty work,” he said. “But Davis
is too shrewd to have compromised
himself. I believe he will be glad of
the opportunity to break with De
Witt.”
“Why?”
“When a rogue like Davis has used
a lesser rogue for years, he’s apt to
get tired of him. Davis is an old man
and wants to keep his name clean,
even at a pecuniary loss.”
Winton thought over that aspect of
the situation, but it seemed to him
more or less immaterial. If he could
win his fight and hold his claim, he
meant to realize on it and return to
his own country. He felt that he
could no longer exist in the land where
Sheila lived, dishonored and an out-
cast.
. He avoided visiting Seaton in jail,
but Brown reported that the old man
was holding firm in a surprising way.
He had been approached by emissaries
of the syndicate, and had refused to
see them.
A few nights before the trial opened
Winton received a visit from the last
person whom he had expected to see.
It was De Witt himself, who came to
his cottage just as he was about to
retire.
The man looked broken as he stood
in the doorway, hat in hand. As Win-
ton rose he came forward. flung it
upon the table, and sat down in a
chair, breathing heavily.
“You think you've got me?’ he de-
manded.
“I hope so”
(Cuaiinued next week).
Pretty Poor Nourishment.
An old negro from the back country,
who was unused to modern methods In
medicine, was sent to a hospital in
Charleston. One of the nurses put a
thermometer into his mouth to take
his temperature. Presently when one
of the doctors made hig rounds he
asked :
“Well, Nathan, how-do.you feel?”
“I feel right tol'ble, huss.”
“Have you had any nourishment?”
“Yassir.”
“What did you have?”
The patient grinn:d. *“A lady done
gimme a piece of g'ass to suck, boss.”
—Everybody’s Maguzine.